บท 8: 008, red bandana
Zaire subconsciously shifted his gaze. He stared into Eugene's eyes.
"Yesterday you got beaten up, and today my restaurant was robbed... Eugene, do you think I would believe this is just a coincidence?"
Before he finished speaking, Zaire abruptly stood up.
He planted his foot on Eugene's chest!
Slowly, he applied his entire body weight.
"Ah!"
In an instant, Eugene's facial features twisted, his lips turning pale.
Sweat beads the size of beans quickly emerged on his forehead.
Almost in a pleading tone, he desperately shouted, "Zaire, please believe me! I really don't know anything! Besides occasionally teasing classmates, I haven't done anything illegal!"
However, Zaire, silent, pulled out a long and massive military knife from his backpack.
His movements were slow yet resolute.
Zaire bent down with the knife tip aimed at Eugene's eye!
Eugene lying on the ground could almost feel the chilling edge of the military knife!
This made him terrified, unable to move at all!
At the same time, a cold countdown emerged from Zaire's clenched teeth.
"One!"
"It's Sergei!"
Under such terrifying mental pressure, Eugene's eyes instantly broke down, and he shouted in despair, "It must be Sergei! It has to be him! His cousin is a gangster! Sergei told me their whole family has gang ties!"
A faint smile briefly appeared at the corner of Zaire's mouth.
His grip on the knife remained unchanged.
But the pressure on Eugene's chest had lessened considerably.
"I thought Sergei was just boasting. Who doesn't know a few gangster friends? But I never thought he would be involved in a robbery, let alone robbing your restaurant..."
Eugene's eyes welled up with tears, his words filled with indescribable grievance.
Zaire fell into thought, then suddenly asked, "Why do you think it's Sergei?"
"I'm not sure..."
"But Sergei didn't come to visit me at the hospital this afternoon!" Eugene's expression changed constantly, his tone resentful. "And my embarrassing incident of getting beaten up has spread throughout the entire social circle! Besides Sergei, no one else knew about it!"
"Also, Sergei has always liked tinkering with firearms since he was little, but his skills are terrible. He's too embarrassed to show off, he only mentioned it to me!"
Sergei, the blonde man encountered while delivering food yesterday.
Zaire took a deep breath, briefly pondered, and made a decision.
He slowly sheathed the catakana military knife and lifted his foot off Eugene's chest.
"His full name?" Zaire asked.
"Sergei Petrovich," Eugene blurted out.
"Where does he live?" Zaire continued.
"Probably somewhere in Brooklyn? I really don't know where exactly because I've never been to his place!" Eugene explained desperately.
By now, Eugene was terrified, not daring to lie.
He really had nothing to do with the robbery.
Zaire shifted his gaze, suddenly noticing Eugene's phone lying on the sofa.
He picked it up and handed it to Eugene on the floor.
"Call Sergei and ask where he is."
"Got it!"
Eugene took the phone, cautiously searched for the number, and dialed.
Unfortunately, there was only a series of unanswered beeps from the other end of the phone.
Eugene, looking pale, touched his neck.
He looked at Zaire, forcing a bitter smile, "No one answered."
Zaire nodded expressionlessly.
This was within his expectations.
"Let me borrow it."
Zaire took the phone from Eugene's hand and turned to leave.
The long night was just beginning.
Just as he was about to step out of the room's door.
Zaire suddenly stopped, turned back, and said,
"Do you know the rules to save your life?"
Eugene, still trembling on the ground, hurriedly replied,
"I won't call the police! I won't tell anyone! I'll try to be a good person!"
"Thank you for cooperating."
Zaire nodded satisfactorily and walked out of the room.
After the footsteps in the corridor gradually faded away.
Eugene struggled to sit up, occasionally uttering painful groans.
"Simply an undeserved disaster..."
----------
In the center of the street, traffic flowed densely, and the piercing honks echoed one after another.
As night fell, the dazzling neon lights continued to illuminate pedestrians returning home on the roadside.
They also illuminated Zaire's cold and stern face.
At this moment, he was checking Eugene's social media accounts.
Searching for the next target, any trace of Sergei.
Ding-dong—
Just then, a Twitter notification mentioning Eugene caught Zaire's eye.
He casually clicked on it, and a photo from Sergei Petrovich slowly loaded.
The photo seemed to be taken in a dimly lit bar booth.
Facing the camera, Sergei, with his upper body exposed, had an extremely excited expression, his eyes blazing.
Next to him, two naked women were provocatively posing.
But what caught Zaire's attention was something else in the photo.
Sergei tightly clutching a large bundle of cash in his hands!
Zaire roughly estimated, just from what was visible in the photo, there were over two thousand bucks in cash!
Could a poor guy who struggles to even pay for food deliveries suddenly become rich overnight?
Such miracles might exist in the world.
But definitely not for Sergei Petrovich!
He was undoubtedly one of the robbers who raided the restaurant during the day!
Zaire's eyes narrowed, a sardonic grin forming on his face.
"Caught you!"
Immediately, Zaire pocketed his phone, adjusted the handlebars, and sped off along the street.
Brooklyn, Blueberry Nightclub!
Completely unsuspecting, Sergei was inside, spending wildly and enjoying the night!
Perhaps to taunt the injured Eugene.
Sergei even thoughtfully tagged the nightclub's address in the photo.
This significantly reduced Zaire's difficulty in finding him!
At this moment, under the cover of night, Zaire dashed through the light columns of the street lamps, heading towards his target.
But before that.
He needed a few things to kick off this bloody midnight revelry.
Zaire searched along the way and quickly found a small supermarket.
By the time Zaire finished shopping, he had almost exhausted all the cash on him.
A steel pipe, about the thickness of a finger and more than a foot long.
A roll of toilet paper and two boxes of nails.
A military-grade oil crayon and a pair of heavy military boots.
Additionally, because the supermarket was hosting a promotional lottery.
Zaire unexpectedly won a red men's scarf as a consumer reward.
Under the night sky, Zaire stared at the red scarf in his hand.
Unable to help but reveal a cold, sardonic smile.
.....................................................................
Stones?
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